


It's Just a Bite

by KyraDragon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Established Relationship, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25618834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyraDragon/pseuds/KyraDragon
Summary: Stiles just wanted one weekend. One weekend. To be a normal adult. Then he goes and finds a wendigo in a nightclub.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 150





	It's Just a Bite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallMeCurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeCurious/gifts).



> This fic is dedicated to Skeleton Princess for always being so helpful and supportive!

Stiles just wanted one weekend. _One weekend_. To be a normal adult. And he was an adult, thank you very much. He was 20 years old and honestly surprised he had made it as long as he did considering he lived in Beacon Hills, home to werewolves, kanimas, hunters, banshees, werecoyotes, wendigos, werechameleons, hellhounds, and who the fuck else knows. Lydia, probably. Stiles had helped Lydia create her list of Beacon Hill’s supernatural population, and it was actually his plan they used to sniff out the teenagers during his senior year of high school. 

Using his Spark, he had taken a handful of mountain ash and, before school started that Monday, walked around the school in a massive circle and closed the loop. Then all they had to do was wait. It was actually pretty amusing to Stiles, watching all the human students rushing in, meeting their friends, talking about the weekend, while he watched as more than one student hit the barrier and got pushed back. The students had brushed it off, saying they forgot something at home or had to check their bag for something, and Stiles waited until the last bell rang and all the humans were inside before he and Lydia had approached and got their information. 

Stiles had dreaded telling his dad that 24% of the population of the high school were supernatural of one kind or the other. The Sheriff announced his upcoming retirement the same year. 

Stiles couldn’t really blame him, though. All those supernatural teenagers were going to become supernatural adults and his dad shouldn’t have to put up with that. He had a hard enough time being the main point of police contact with just the Hale pack. It was then that Stiles had decided he was going to become a deputy and take over for his dad in a few years. 

Scott had decided to go to veterinary school, Allison helped her dad with private gun sales, Lydia was excelling at Stanford, Jackson stuck with sports, Isaac was studying to be a social worker for abused kids, Boyd was talking about buying out the ice rink from the owner who was due to retire soon, Erica spent most of her time with Boyd at the rink, Malia was looking to become a forest ranger, and Kira was going to school for political science. All in all, the young band of teenagers had survived high school and were becoming very outstanding members of society. Well, maybe not outstanding. But they were in society! 

Stiles had convinced Derek to stay in Beacon Hills after he had been possessed by the Nogitsune. Derek had come by to tell Stiles that he was leaving, which caused Stiles to proceed to have a panic attack. His heart started to squeeze, his throat tightened and was choking him, he couldn’t catch his breath, and then he looked up at Derek who was staring at him like a deer in headlights. Stiles didn’t know what to say, or what else to do, so he had just lunged forward and slammed his lips on the Alpha’s. It had started them both and they went toppling down on Stiles’ bed.

Which also happened to be the exact moment his dad walked into his doorway, a word half-formed on his lips, before he saw the two of them in bed. His dad’s words caught in his throat, he groaned, and said, “I swear if you hurt him.”

“I – “ Derek had started but Stiles had cut him off.

“I won’t.” Stiles had told his dad, and his dad had hurried off.

“I won’t,” Stiles repeated, looking down into Derek’s hazel eyes. “I promise.”

Stiles and Derek had become inseparable. 

They didn’t immediately tell the pack, but it was the little things. Stiles was pretty sure Derek was stealing his shirts on rotation because any time he found his “missing” shirts, they always smelled like Derek, and other shirts would be missing instead. Stiles also didn’t mind Derek always touching, kissing, licking, or rubbing his neck. He didn’t bother telling Derek he knew he was being scented. Their secret relationship didn’t last a month before Erica just blurted out that they knew while in the middle of a pack meeting.

But Stiles wanted one weekend to be a normal, 20-year-old man. He had grabbed Jackson and Lydia and decided to go out Saturday evening to the same bar that he and Scott tracked Jackson to when he was being controlled and hunting Danny. Nothing had gotten past Scott when Scott realized it was a gay bar.  
He still wasn’t legally allowed to drink but that didn’t stop him from hitting the dance floor, flailing his arms to the beat of the music. He was no more graceful than he had been back when they threw a rave in Derek’s loft, but he just didn’t care. He wasn’t here to pick up any guys or impress anybody. He was here to destress and not think about any supernatural problems or the monster of the week.

He should have known better.

He was about an hour into the night, jumping along to the beats, when a body rammed into him, throwing him onto the dirty club floor. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he felt a sharp pain shoot up his arm. His eyes flew open and looked down, where they meet a pair of glowing white eyes. Then he saw the teeth. The two rows of razor-sharp wendigo teeth that were half-buried in his left arm. 

Then he screamed. 

The teeth weren’t still in him for two more seconds before Jackson was there, picking the wendigo up off of Stiles, and throwing him through the crowd. His eyes are piercing blue and Stiles noticed liquid dripping off of Jackson’s claws. 

Then Lydia was at his side, checking on him. He pressed his arm against his chest and covered the bite with his other hand. Stiles got to his feet and was thankful for how loud the music is, and how distracted the population of Beacon Hills seem to be, as no one seemed to either notice or care about the situation going on around them. 

“Come on, let’s go.” Lydia bit out and she pushed on Stiles’ back to lead him towards the door. Stiles compiled while watching Jackson go pick up the paralyzed man-eater. 

The cold air hit Stiles as soon as he got outside. He pulled his hand away and it came back covered in blood.

“Shit.” He muttered, pulling off his plaid overshirt and wrapped it around the bite on his arm. “I really liked that one.”

He saw Lydia pursed her lips together and give him a look. 

“What?! It was a favourite!” 

She only rolled her eyes at him. 

They loaded their cargo into the back of the Jeep, and Jackson sat in the backseat to keep an eye on him.

Stiles was thankful that it was his wasn’t his right arm that was bitten, given his need to shift the Jeep’s manual transmission. He wanted to get back to the loft, but he dreaded what Derek would say. Derek had wanted to go with them, but he wasn’t the party type and tended to growl at people. 

Stiles wasn’t even pulling into the parking lot when he saw Derek standing there, concern written all over his face. He parked and was one foot out of the vehicle before Derek was at his side.

“What happened?” He asked, eyes scanning Stiles and landing on his arm. “I was able to smell the blood from a mile away.” Stiles wasn’t sure if he meant the expression or literally. 

“It’s okay,” Stiles said. He went to put his hand on Derek’s cheek but stopped when he saw it still had blood on it. “I’m fine.” Derek’s eyebrows didn’t believe him. “Really!” 

“Stiles,” Derek said, crossing his arms.

“Some asshole tried to take a bite out of me, is all,” Stiles said as Lydia and Jackson came around the other side, Jackson holding up said asshole.

Derek saw the man and growled, flashing his eyes. Stiles couldn’t see Jackson from where he was standing, but he could see a one-sided silent conversation happen with Derek’s eyebrows and heard Jackson walk away.

“If Scott asks, I saw and know nothing,” Stiles said.

“Let’s get you inside.” And with that Derek lead him into the loft. 

It was already late and Stiles was tired from the night’s events. 

All he needed was a good night’s sleep and all of this will have blown over, he was sure of it.

He woke up the next morning with a fever. He groaned into the pillow and rolled over, away from the werewolf body next to him which must have been a thousand degrees. He heard Derek inhale and the other man rolled over.

“You’re sick.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Stiles still nodded.

“It would seem so, WorryWolf. Probably just a cold.” Stiles went to get up out of bed but his legs gave out under him and Derek was up in a heartbeat. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, helping Stiles up off the floor and supporting more than half his weight.

“Yeah, yeah, just lightheaded is all.” Stiles sat down on the edge of their bed and went to lift his left arm, but he felt the sting again. “Help me with this?” Stiles asked and Derek helped remove the bandage they had wrapped it in last night before bed. Stiles' pale complexion got even whiter when the bandage fell away, and he saw the bite wound. It had turned an ugly shade of red with black lines webbing around the teeth marks.

“Stay here,” Derek said and left their bedroom.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he could move even if he wanted to. He just stared at the bite and the sickening feeling in his stomach got worse each passing second.

Derek walked back into the room with a wet washcloth, some alcohol wipes, and a water. 

“Der…” Stiles said, looking at the wolf. “Can…does…” He faltered.

“No, you have to be born a wendigo, you can’t be turned.” Derek crouched down next to Stiles and handed him the water. “Drink.” 

Stiles was mid-swig out of the water bottle when he felt the sting of the alcohol in the wound, but it only lasted a second. He looked down and saw the black lines in Derek’s hands and arms, stealing the pain away from him. 

“Derek, you don’t have to – “

“Hush,” Derek commanded. Stiles knew he didn’t have to follow the command, seeing as how he wasn’t a were, but he did as he was told anyway. Derek cleaned the wound and was in the middle of wrapping it when Stiles’ long fingers caught his and gave a little squeeze. Derek squeezed back and finished the wrapping. 

“Lay down, I’ll get you some food.” And he did. Stiles stayed above the covers because he was still feeling warm and he realized he must have passed out because the next thing he knew, his eyes were fluttering open to the sound of Derek calling his name. 

He saw Derek was holding a bowl and smiled when he saw the chicken noodle soup. 

“Aww, you’re such a softie.” And he sat up to take it.

“An Alpha takes care of his pack.”

“And his mate?” Stiles asked.

Derek gave him the smallest of headbutts and smiled. 

Stiles sipped at the soup, but it didn’t make him feel much better. He was more warm and fuzzy over Derek taking care of him than anything else. 

The third day he woke up with a fever, this time accompanied by chills and a headache, they had called Melissa. 

Melissa came over to the loft with Scott tailing after her, with sad, worried puppy eyes. 

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Scott asked while Melissa took his temperature. 

“It’s just a cold.” Stiles tried reassuring him. “Derek’s the worried one here.” 

Scott sat down on the bed and Stiles didn’t see him take out his phone. 

“Actually,” Melissa said, “It looks like you’ve got a pretty bad infection. Do I even want to know what bit you?” The second the word ‘bit’ was out of her mouth Scott whipped his head around to look at Derek, glaring.

“No! No! Easy there, buddy.” Stiles flailed his one good arm at Scott. “It wasn’t Derek!” 

Scott looked back at Stiles and Stiles recounted the events at the club. He heard Scott let out a small whine when Stiles said it had been a wendigo and beat him to it, “And no, you can’t be turned with a bite like you can with an Alpha’s bite.” 

Melissa provided him a prescription for strong antibiotics and told him not to go to the hospital, seeing as how they would have a hell of a time explaining those bite marks to any doctor. 

“Scott, do you mind watching Stiles while I go get this filled?” Derek asked, already picking up his leather jacket off the table. 

“Of course not,” Scott said.

Stiles made grabby hands towards Derek and the older man rolled his eyes but walked over and gave Stiles a kiss before heading towards the door. 

“It’s still weird sometimes,” Scott said, as soon as the loft door was closed.

“Hmm?”

“Derek now compared to when we first met him. He seems so much…happier.” Scott said, turning to look at Stiles with a smile on his face. 

“Oh no, he’s still plenty grouchy!” Stiles assured him. “You just don’t see it because you don’t live with him. I mean, how was I supposed to know the steaks would burn when I grabbed – “

“Hey, hey, hey!” Scott practically yelled, cutting him off. “All because I support you doesn’t mean I need to hear all the details!” 

Stiles smirked but laid back down, so very ready for a nap. He didn’t see Scott send a text.

Stiles slowly started to regain consciousness and heard voices. His eyes peeked open and saw Scott was still sitting on his bed, but between his legs was Allison, who was sitting on the floor with Isaac standing close to them.

“Oh no.” He lifted his head and saw that Erica and Boyd were cuddled up on the bed next to Kira and Malia, Lydia was sitting on the couch with Jackson, Peter of all people was sitting in the stairwell.

Stiles groaned and dropped his head back into his pillow.

“Scottttt…” He whined. “Why would you tell the pack?” 

He felt someone smack his side lightly and heard Erica say, “At least he did! Batman too good to tell us when he’s hurt?”

“It’s just an infection!” He tried to protest. 

“An infection that’s had you bedridden for three days.” He heard Derek’s voice and peaked his eye out from the pillow, seeing Derek finish walking up the stairs past Peter, with a bottle and water. 

“Funny,” Stiles said. “I don’t normally hear you complain when I won’t leave the bed.” He smiled when that earned him a collective groan from the pack. 

“Really, Stiles?” Lydia cut in but that just earned her a shit-eating grin from him. 

Derek put a small plate down that had a sandwich sitting on it, along with a pill, and put a water on the bedside table. “Eat.” 

“Not hungry.” Stiles tried hiding his face back into the pillow, but Derek pulled the pillow out from under him. “Hey!”

“My house, my rules,” Derek said. 

“Hey!” Stiles playfully snapped at him.

“Our house. Still my rules.” Derek corrected. “I’m the Alpha.” He winked at Stiles and Stiles shivered. 

Over the next three days, Stiles didn’t seem to get better. The pack rotated in and out as they could. Stiles woke up more than once with an extra body or two in bed with Derek and him. They always stole Derek’s side of the bed, knowing better than to wiggle between the two of them. 

Stiles woke up frozen solid. Luckily it was just the two of them and Stiles glanced at the clock; it was 2:36 a.m. 

“D – Derek?” He got out.

“Hmm?” Derek sounded way more than half asleep still.

“I’m not okay.” Stiles nearly whispered and he saw Derek’s eyes shoot open. 

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, bringing his hand up to touch Stiles’ face and pulled back as soon as he did. “You’re freezing!” 

Stiles shivered a bit and nodded. “I’m so cold, Der.” 

Derek pulled him close but after a few minutes, Stiles didn’t seem to be doing any better. 

“Give me a second,” Derek said, getting up out of bed. Stiles let out a small whine and Derek visibly flinched. “I know. I’ll be right back.” Derek grabbed his phone and called Scott. He heard Derek tell Scott to get Melissa and get over there as soon as possible. As soon as Derek hung up, Stiles watched him strip down naked.

“Really, Der? Not sure I have the energy for – “

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek cut him off.

As soon as Derek was naked, Stiles watched him full shift into a large, black wolf. He heard Derek’s claws click against the woof as he approached the bed. 

“You better not scratch the wood,” Stiles said quietly with a smirk.

Derek only growled at him and jumped up onto the bed and laid down over Stiles’ whole body. He was heavy, but oh so warm. He wrapped his arms around the large wolf, nuzzling his face into the thick fur. “Thank you.” He whispered. 

It was 3:02 a.m. by the time Melissa and Scott got there. Derek was still in wolf form and growled a little when Melissa approached but Stiles flicked his ear. 

“She’s here to help, remember?” Stiles said.

Derek shifted off of the boy and gave him room to sit up. Melissa put her bag down and crouched down to take a look at Stiles’ arm. “Oh boy.” 

“That sounds encouraging!” Stiles tried for his best grin but winced when Melissa handled him, which earned her another low growl from Derek.

“We’re going to have to do a flush,” Melissa told him, meeting his eyes. “It’s going to hurt.” 

“Oh great…” Stiles groaned.

“It’s okay.” Stiles heard a voice say. His eyes snapped towards the door and saw Isaac standing there. “He has a few good painkillers.” And Stiles watched as Jackson, Erica, Boyd, and Malia shuffled past Isaac. 

Derek made what sounded like a mix between a howl and a bark. 

“I’m going to take your damn phone away,” Stiles said to Scott.

“Shut up, Stilinski and just accept our help,” Jackson said and before Stiles knew it, he was surrounded by the wolves, coyote, and lizard of the pack. 

He heard Derek jump down off the bed and click his way to the bathroom, and within a minute he saw Derek, back as a human, walk out dressed. 

“Okay, you’ll need to hold him down,” Melissa said.

“Why?” Stiles asked. “What exactly is a flush…?” He trailed off when he saw Melissa take a surgical knife out of her bag. “Oh no no, wait – “ Scott held his arm down against the bedside table while the rest of the wolves held him still. 

Melissa took the knife and made a long incision across the bite mark and Stiles whimpered. Derek came up from behind him and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ chest, making small shushing noises. Melissa proceeded to cut out infected and dead flesh from the inside of his arm, all while spraying saline into the wound to wash it out. The wolves all took turns taking the pain from Stiles except Derek. The black lines never faded from his arms as he kept his face next to Stiles’ face, placing small kisses along his neck and shoulder. 

The makeshift procedure lasted maybe thirty minutes and it was all Stiles could do to not pass out. 

After Melissa sewed him up, she helped clean up the table and mess that had been made while Derek lowered Stiles back down onto the bed and the pack all gathered around. Stiles finally allowed himself to pass out. 

By the next day, the human members of the pack returned to pile onto Stiles and he might have just complained if he didn’t secretly love it. They were all there for him, to help him physically or emotionally. They took turns bringing him food, drinks, picking what to watch on Netflix, and pressing themselves against him so everyone got a turn. Stiles thought about what Peter had told Derek, how wolves never abandon an injured member of the pack. 

It made him smile. 

Stiles knew, without a doubt, that he was pack. 

And he couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr!
> 
> https://staffofoppression.tumblr.com/


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